


Broken

by sumnawaz



Category: Blood and Ash Series - Jennifer L. Armentrout
Genre: Dreams and Nightmares, Established Relationship, F/M, Nightmares, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:54:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28143432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sumnawaz/pseuds/sumnawaz
Summary: Casteel's perspective during the scene in the Skotos Mountains in A Kingdom of Flesh and Fire.
Relationships: Penellaphe Balfour/Casteel Da'Neer, Penellaphe Da'Neer/Casteel Da'Neer, Poppy Balfour/Casteel Da'Neer, Poppy Da'Neer/Casteel Da'Neer
Comments: 15
Kudos: 97





	Broken

**Author's Note:**

> all characters belong to Jennifer L. Armentrout, including some of the dialogue towards the end since they are lines already present in the book, written in a different perspective.

Her eyes were empty.

Hollow from their usual warmth, the vivid green faded into the dullness that reflected an empty shell of a woman. She looked at me as if she had no clue as to who I was, and that alone made me want to throw up more than the rancid stench of damp walls and rotten corpses. But my gaze never left her—my wife. Poppy. And the sight of her. . . It killed me.

She sat with her profile to me, legs folded beneath her, red hair long and unbrushed as she leaned her temple against the cement walls of the cell. Thick, cold bars separated the two of us, and no matter how hard I pulled at them, they didn’t budge. The grated iron of the bars dug into the skin of my palms and fingers as I tried to pull them, push them, just trying to get them to fucking  _ move _ . 

My breath turned ragged with every breath I took, the air feeling like needles, my skin damp with sweat over the exertion of  _ failing _ . Because I couldn’t get to her, no matter how hard I tried, she was just barely out of reach. And she wasn’t trying. Poppy stayed where she sat, dirt and blood caked to her skin, like she couldn’t see me desperately trying to reach for her, like my pleading calls for her fell onto deaf ears.

“Poppy, please,” I tried again for the dozenth, hundredth, thousandth time. But she didn’t move, didn’t even look my way. 

Broken. She was broken, empty, and I couldn’t fucking get to her.

My heart was pounding in my chest, feeling the hot bead of sweat run down my temple, jaw, neck, as I strained to reach for her with one hand through the bars of the cell. This place—I fucking hated this place. Hated the memories that clung to it, the nightmares it brought, the horrific smell that sometimes invaded my senses even when I was far, far away from it. 

My wife, my beautiful, perfect wife did not belong in this disgusting place. Keeping her far away from here was all I wanted, all I could hope for. And seeing her there, locked in the cage that once held me for fifty years, made me nauseous. It made every ounce of hatred I held for the Ascended stir with a raging fire there was no hope of putting out. Because I knew the way they broke you, knew the shit they did to you to the point where living felt like a chore and it would seem easier to just give up as a way of saving yourself from suffering any longer.

My stomach turned in over itself at the sight of Poppy. Hollow. Broken. I couldn’t get to her. I couldn’t get to her. I couldn’t—

The mist scattered as I woke with a startled gasp, inhaling deeply as I stared, wide eyed, at absolutely nothing. My hand found my chest, feeling the thundering of my heart as I willed it to calm down. Squeezing my eyes shut, I fisted my shirt as I hissed out, “Fuck.”

A nightmare. It was only a nightmare, brought on by the magic and the mist we were surrounded by. Eyes still shut, I frowned, cursing at myself for being so susceptible to it. Hadn’t I warned Poppy against the same thing?

My eyes snapped open. Poppy.

I turned my head to the right and I swore my heart stuttered to a stop. The space next to me was empty, my gaze directly finding Kieran’s sleeping form, a troubled expression twisting his features, telling me he was battling his own nightmares the mist plagued him with. I sat up, head turning, gaze frantically searching for my wife, feeling the dreadful dip in my stomach when the thick mist prevented me from seeing anything beyond a few feet. No sign of Poppy.

“Fuck,  _ fuck _ —Poppy?” I called, the thunder of my heart pounding in my ears. Nowhere—I couldn’t see her anywhere. Fuck. Feeling as though I had no control over my body, I scrambled towards Kieran, movements quick as I grabbed his shoulders and shook him. “Wake up. Kieran, wake up,  _ come on _ .”

He woke with a jolt, eyes wide and wild, looking as though whatever plagued him in his dream hadn’t been all fucking rainbows and sunshine. His icy blue eyes met mine, pushing himself up as he asked, “What?”

Time felt like it was running out. I had no idea where Poppy had wandered off to, didn’t know how or why she left, and I had no fucking idea where to begin to get her back. My heart hadn’t calmed, panicked as I could literally feel my blood rushing through my veins as I roughly said, “Poppy’s gone.” Kieran’s eyes widened, head snapping to where she had laid as he quickly got up. “We need to—” The anxiety broke through my voice. “Can you track her?”

Kieran’s throat worked as we both got to our feet, my blunt nails digging into my palms as I looked around, hoping to find some sign of her—anything—as Kieran’s eyebrows pulled together and he searched around us as well. My heart threatened to burst out of my chest. Between the two of us, we should be able to find her. We had to.

_ Where are you, where are you, where are you, where are— _

Kieran moved suddenly, my head snapping towards him, quick to follow him through the mist. I concentrated on my other senses since the mist had made it difficult for even me to see, hoping to hear her voice, praying to catch her scent in the air. Throat thick with the lump lodged in there and the freezing weather seeping into my bones, I ignored the panic locking up my body as I continued my search for Poppy.

Our quick footsteps thudded against the rocky ground of the mountain as I looked past Kieran, and I swore my heart fell and the air rushed out of my lungs when I caught sight of what was ahead. “Shit, Cas—”

I didn’t get to or need to hear what Kieran was beginning to say, my feet moving on their own accord as I bolted forward, eyes wide and heart stuttering as I saw Poppy. Locks of her red hair danced in the breeze, her back to us, and a shout caught in my throat as she staggered forward. No, no, no, no.

“Poppy!” 

Before she could take that fatal step forward, my arm wound around her waist, yanking her towards me as her back hit my chest. The force of my pull had both of us falling backward, but I didn’t care because she was  _ safe _ and not falling off the edge of a cliff into an abyss of absolutely nothing.

The warmth of her body against mine was a saving grace, a comfort that eased some of the panic that took up residence in my nerves. Breathing ragged, my hand found her cheek as I held her to me, Kieran hovering by us. “Poppy. Gods. Poppy,” I said, voice thick as I turned her in my lap. Her green eyes met mine and they were bright and vivid and  _ lively _ as her gaze swept over me, startled. Her cheek was warm against my hand. “Dear gods, Poppy, what in the hell were you doing?”

My voice was rough, I knew, but the terror in my voice prevented me from calming down. She’d almost—shit, she’d almost fallen. She’d almost—

Stop. I couldn’t think about that. Couldn’t give life to that fear. 

“I. . .” Poppy looked around, looking dazed and confused, her own breathing heavy as she tried to gather her thoughts.

But my heart was still racing, I was sure I was shaking as I held her to me. “What the hell were you doing?” I demanded, hands gripping her to give her a shake despite myself. My breath clouded in front of me, throat dry from the tension. My lips quivered, feeling a burning in my eyes as I looked at her; confused and tired but alive and beautiful. I inhaled sharply, voice breaking as I forced out, “You could’ve—you would’ve been broken, Poppy. Broken and shattered in a way I never would be able to fix.”

And, fuck, that was the truth. Had we gotten here just a second too late, and she. . . She would be gone. The mere idea of that, of this woman no longer being around to reward me with her smile and laugh or unapologetically put me in my place—of her no longer being  _ here _ , with me, destroyed me. Because I couldn’t imagine it, couldn’t imagine a life without her, and I sure as hell didn’t want to. I can’t fucking breathe if I do.

I held her, her face in my hands, and reveled in the sight of her, in the feel of her. She may have been. . . Broken in the fucked up nightmare, but she wasn’t now. I had gotten to her in time. I had made it.

She wasn’t broken. She was alright. Alive and warm and in my grasp. And I would be damned if I allowed it to be any different.


End file.
